Macaroni Night
by Holmes-Harkness
Summary: This was probably a mistake - And yet, here he was on one knee, about to propose to the love of his life. One-shot.


My palms are sweating under the table where she can't see them. Around me, the sounds of forks and knives and other ceramics making contact fill the air, nearly drowning out the sound of the classical piano music playing from somewhere. My untouched dinner sits before me on the white-sheeted table; a salad with two cherry tomatoes and a generous helping of Italian vinaigrette dressing sits on the plate's edge, but I'm not going to have any of it. I've long since lost my appetite. How am I supposed to eat when what is impending is all that I can think about? I can feel the small box in my pocket and it's making me more nervous whenever I realize that it's there. Mels told me that this would be easy — "It'll be a piece of cake!" were her exact words — but I'm really starting to think that she was wrong.

Across from me, my best friend and girlfriend of four years, her red hair tied up in a messy braid, sits and pokes at the steak she's gotten with her fork. Maybe I'm most scared for this because she doesn't look too pleased.

"Honestly, Rory, why couldn't we just eat at my house?" She asks, not looking up from where she is struggling to cut something on her plate. Her tone is irritable. Great. "Sharon was making macaroni and you know how much I love that." She finally looks up, and apparently my 'steely resolve' is not as solid as I thought that it was. "And what are you fidgeting for? God, you look like you're going to be sick!" Maybe I should have done this on a night other than macaroni night... But either way, I have to come up with a quick response to hide my true feelings. I do that a lot.

"I'm f-fine," I say back, unintentionally stuttering. My dad hates when I do that. "A man doesn't stutter!" He always tells me, in a harsh voice, I might add. "He has confidence!" His words don't really ever help me, though. "Just..." I start again. "Not as hungry as I thought I was."

That probably wasn't the best thing to say since this was my reservation and it was my idea to come here, but it doesn't cause any sort of outburst from the girl in front of me — So that's good. She does stand up, though, making a move to leave for somewhere. It worries me for a moment before she speaks. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Be right back!" And with that, Amy turns and walks away, passing by a few waiters who watch her go as she does. I'm left alone again now, and now my nerves can freely kick in — And they do. I wipe my palms on my pants and fidget in my seat, reaching into my pocket and taking ahold of the small box that has the ring in it. Immediately I am reminded of all the things everyone told me when I said I was going to propose to Amy:

"But you're only twenty-two!" Complained my mother. "Isn't that a bit young?" She isn't my girlfriend's biggest fan, truthfully. She thinks that Amy's a bad influence because she gets me into all sorts of trouble.

"Amy?" My dad laughed. "What makes you think she'll say yes to you?" He always lets me know that he believes she's too good for me.

"Don't worry," Amy's Aunt Sharon said supportively. "I won't say a word." I hope that she hasn't. I'm afraid that what I'm about to do will ruin our friendship.

It definitely will, if she says no.

The waitress that has been serving our table comes by and takes the uneaten food, getting ready to bring the chocolate ice cream dessert over. Amy is only gone for five minutes, but in that time I find myself in one intense internal battle. I never knew that proposing would ever be this difficult, but now I do. Girls in school always used to say that boys had it easier; they don't know the half of it, then. I hear the sound of a door shutting in the distance, and it snaps me out of my reverie. I can already see her coming back in this direction, and it makes the butterflies in my stomach, figuratively speaking of course, even more unsettling. I'm doing my best to work up my courage and I hope that it's enough. As soon as she gets to the table and sits down, after what seems like a very long time of waiting because of all of the anticipation, I stand up.

"... What are you doing?" She asks immediately, giving me a puzzled look. "Sit down." I immediately do, just because I am so used to listening to her, but then I stand up again, having to explain myself. "No," I say, and then clear my throat, hoping that that didn't sound too harsh. God, I'm so nervous. I'm really lightheaded and my heart is racing, and I'm really starting to think that I should have eaten that food while I had the chance. "I, um, I... I wanted to ask you something." She looks immensely confused, but I still have more to say.

"It's been four years n-now, uh, since we started... Dating and all, b-but we've known each other forever, and I... I just wanted to ask you something really important."

At this point, it's too late to turn back, and I can't even think. Taking a deep breath and probably looking even more nervous than I feel, I take the small navy and velvet box out of my pocket and awkwardly (no matter how many times I might have practiced) fall onto one knee, holding it out a bit. If Mels could see me right now, she would probably be cracking up with laughter. I wouldn't blame Amy if she did too. And all I can think before I say those four words is, 'Here goes nothing... Or everything.' I breathe in but it's a bit shaky.

"W-will... You marry me?"

I haven't looked at her until now. Amy is sitting in her chair still, her mouth wide open in shock. Okay... So maybe I wasn't as obvious about it as I previously thought. But I haven't really moved yet, and I can feel the eyes of everyone in the restaurant on the both of us, a collective silence surrounding everything besides a few whispers or gasps that occasionally break it.

"No," She breathes at first, and I can feel my heart breaking almost instantly, my expression probably falling. She doesn't mean it, right? "I mean, I don't know— Oh, what am I saying? Of course I will! Yes!"

She immediately levitates out of her seat and pulls me up, nearly crushing me with one of her tight hugs. Everyone around immediately applauds, some cheers and 'awwws' coming from places that I cannot pinpoint. It takes me a minute to realize what is happening, and that she actually said yes. For a few moments there, I thought that she may actually say no... I can feel my face heating up in embarrassment and happiness and a thousand emotions all at once.

As the applause dies down and the other restaurant patrons go back to their meals, I know that this will just be an event that will slowly fade from their memories, fading into the past. But now, I finally have a future to look forward to, and everything, even after the strange incident at the hospital last year, seems to be falling into place. Could anything get better than this? I just can't wait to see the look on my dad's face when I get home and tell him what happened. Maybe then he'll think I'm worth something. Maybe then he'll see that I'm really not a half-bad son.


End file.
